The Upside of Being Down

To be in a state of melancholy . . .

. . . maybe isn't such a bad thing afterall.


Melancholia forces us to think against the status quo. It thrives in unexplored middle ground between oppositions. It encourages new ways of conceiving and naming mysterious connections. It returns us to innocence, to irony, to that ability to play in potential without being constrained to the actual. Such revalations refresh our relationship to the world, grant us beautiful visions, energize our hearts and our minds. We are called to forge untested links to our environments. We are summoned to be creative and innovative.

Given these virtues of melancholia, why are thousands of psychiatrists and psychologists attempting to "cure" depression as if it were a terrible disease? Obviously, those suffering severe depression, suicidal and bordering on psychosis, require serious medications. But what of those millions of people who possess mild to moderate depression? Should these potential visionaries also be asked to eradicate their melancholia with the help of a pill? Should these possible innovators relinquish what might well be their greatest ability?

Right now, if the statistics are correct, about 15 percent of Americans are not happy. Soon, perhaps, with the help of psychopharmaceuticals, we shall have no more unhappy people in our country. Melancholics will become unknown.

This would be an unparalleled tragedy. With no more melancholics, we would live in a world in which everyone simply accepted the status quo, in which everyone would simply be content with the given.

Why are we pushing toward such a hellish condition?

The answer is simple: fear. Most hide behind the smile because they are afraid of facing the world's complexity, its vagueness, its terrible beauties. If they stay safely hidden behind their painted grins, then how is it are we suppose to improve the present?

To foster a society of total happiness is to promote a culture of fear. Do we really want to give away our courage for societal conformity? Are we ready to relinquish our most essential hearts for a good night's sleep, a season of contentment? We must ignore the seductions of our blissed-out culture and somehow hold to our sadness. We must find a way, difficult as it may be, to be who we are, sullenness and all.

To be against happiness, to avert contentment, is to be close to joy, to embrace ecstasy. Incompleteness is the call to life. Fragmentation is freedom. The exhilaration of never knowing anything fully is that you can perpetually imagine sublimities beyond reason.